Fine.” He smirks at me. “Nice to meet you, Carrots,” he says, looking directly at my hair. “Oh, I mean Clara.”
My face flames.
“Same to you, Rusty,” I shoot back, but he’s already striding away.

Tucker strokes my hair. There's something so tender about the gesture. It might as well have been him whispering I love you.

How did you do that?”
I shrug. “I click my heels three times and say, ‘There’s no place like home.’”
“Uh-huh. So … you think this is your home? My barn? His tone is playful, but the look he’s giving me is dead serious. A question.
“Haven’t you guessed by now?” I say, my heart hammering. “My home is you.

Are you any good at it?"
"Pulling idiots out of the snow? I'm the best.

I can't leave you," he says hoarsely.
"I can't leave you either," I say, shaking my head. "I can't."
"Then don't," he says, and grabs me behind the neck and kisses me again, and the world is tilting, and everything goes black.

It's been nice knowing you, Clara.'

Huh? My brain still a bit shell-shocked.

'Say a prayer for me, will you? He gives me a shaky grin. Because I'm pretty sure my parents are going to kill me